


A Laundry List of Misunderstandings

by Spuri



Series: Tumblr shorts [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Crush, Cats, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:19:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spuri/pseuds/Spuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a compliment isn't exactly what it seems like...</p><p>But sometimes, it works out okay anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Laundry List of Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hatteress (goddammitstacey)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammitstacey/gifts).



> Based on [this post](http://hatteress.tumblr.com/post/91233207518/help-i-just-said-hello-beautiful-to-my) on tumblr. Because I can never resist awkwardness...

“Hello, beautiful.”

 

Stiles gaped, and almost dropped his laundry. There was no way this was happening to him, stuff like this _never_ happened to him. Then he stubbed his toe on the doorstep from the laundry room and almost went flying, and yeah, that was more like it.

 

So, apparently his gorgeous neighbour Derek was in fact smiling - beaming, really - and calling Stiles beautiful. Wow. This was an actual thing.  Despite the fact that Derek never smiled, and that Stiles only knew the guy’s name because he’d checked his mailbox like a creepy stalker. Yeah, Stiles had no shame when it came to hot people. Well, no shame about anything except actually _interacting_ with hot people.

 

“Um, h-hi,” Stiles stammered back, and tried to ignore how flaming hot his cheeks felt. Three socks - none of them matching - fell off the top of his laundry heap, and his face went from _lava_ to _surface of the sun_ hot. Great, way to look suave and stuff. He bent down to pick them back up, fairly sure he was gonna get noise complaints from the entire block from how loudly his heartbeat was thumping in his head.

 

He twisted a little to grab the last sock, and caught sight of his watch. And promptly went through about half the profanities he knew and loved. He was late for the weekly Stilinski family dinner, not even dressed yet, and his dad was gonna kill him. Especially since this was supposed to be the first dinner where Melissa joined them as well, and dad wanted to make an impression, be welcoming and shit. Which Stiles was totally one thousand percent in favour of, but his dad was totally going to assume tardiness was sabotage or something. Despite the fact that he and Scott had been lobbying for this since they were, like, fifteen, and that Scott had made Stiles swear on his life that he’d look out for Melissa while Scott was away at vet school.

 

So Stiles clearly had to sacrifice his own love life - potential, _maybe_ love life that _might_ happen - for his dad’s. Fuck his life.

 

“Sorry, I have to-...” he babbled at Derek, and nodded towards the stairwell door behind Derek with his most apologetic look. “I’m-... I can’t… See you around?”

 

Derek, face once more in his regular neutral, inscrutable expression, nodded, and turned around to _hold the door open_ for Stiles like a complete fucking gentleman. Stiles was pretty sure he was about three seconds away from swooning. Hopefully, he’d have one of Scott’s inhalers lying around in his apartment somewhere, ‘cause he could really use a hit of that so he could _breathe_ again.

 

The three flights of stairs - stupid broken elevator - didn’t help much, either. He slumped against the wall, panting, until a soft meow shook him out of his attempts to relearn how to breathe. With a sigh, he straightened, and he carefully juggled out his keys and entered the apartment.

 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Selina. You’ll get your dinner before I leave, promise I didn’t forget,” he muttered, and carefully stepped over her to throw his laundry on the couch. Selina always got extra clingy on Stilinski Family Dinner day, as if to make up for the fact that he’d be gone for longer than usual.

 

Stiles wasn’t entirely sure how she always knew what day he’d be gone, but she did, and would follow him everywhere, winding around his legs as if trying to trip him up and break his legs would encourage him to stay. Maybe she figured if she crippled him, he _couldn’t_ leave, who knew? It was kind of nerve-wracking, since Selina was utterly fearless, and didn’t care that Stiles might accidentally kick her across the room if he wasn’t careful. Not that he ever had, or _would_ , but still. He was enough of a klutz it might happen.

 

He grabbed a can of her favourite cat food - if Stiles got to stuff his face at his dad’s, Selina deserved better than cat kibble - and poured it in a clean bowl for her, while grabbing the old one to clean later. He switched her water as well, and ran to get dressed.

 

Three minutes later, he was scrambling back down the stairs, casting a regretful look at the stairwell door and laundry room as he jogged by.

 

Damn it, he better not have blown his chances, or he’d make sure his dad never ate anything but salad ever again, for the rest of his life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Three days later, Stiles was moping on the couch, hugging a slightly reluctant Selina while binge watching _Batman: The Animated Series_ , because it was animated goddamn gold, and he needed some gold right now. Sadly, by Stiles’ estimates, he only had a day or two’s worth of episodes left, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he was gonna do after that.

 

Because Derek was avoiding him now, basically running away whenever he caught even the slightest glimpse of Stiles. It was typical, really, and he shouldn’t have been dumb enough to even think something awesome could happen to him. Things had hurt a whole lot less when Derek didn’t know who Stiles was.

 

There was a knock on his door, and Stiles threw a pillow at it. The pillow flopped pathetically to the floor about halfway there.

 

“That better not be you, dad!” he yelled at the door, since the pillow hadn’t worked. “I’m still mad at you.”

 

There was a slight pause, and then the knocking started up again. With a grumbling sigh, Stiles got up from the couch and padded over to slam the door open with a scowl. It quickly turned into baffled surprise.

 

“Uh, hope I’m not interrupting?” Derek asked, eyes darting around and never really looking at Stiles, as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Just… you dropped these. The other day.”

 

Derek shoved his right hand at Stiles, and Stiles looked down. At familiar black fabric covered in dozens of little yellow Batman logos. Stiles blinked at it in horror, stunned speechless for precious seconds before shifting Selina’s weight so he could carry her one-handed and grab his _goddamn boxer briefs_. That his hot neighbour was apparently returning. Jesus Christ.

 

And here Stiles’d thought he’d already plumbed the absolute depths of humiliation. But apparently there were vast chasms still left to explore. Great.

 

“And sorry. About the other day,” Derek muttered reluctantly, shoving his now free hand back into his leather fucking jacket. Because of course his hot neighbour came over in a leather jacket. The guy lived to fuck with Stiles’ brain, after all. “Didn’t mean to sexually harass you. I was… I was talking to your cat, I swear.”

 

“My cat,” Stiles stated, voice flat. He glanced down at Selina’s head, and as if on cue, she looked up and meowed at him. Well, she was admittedly gorgeous.  “Selina. Of course you were. Oh god, I’m so sorry, you must think I’m such a conceited douche!”

 

Stiles groaned in dread and closed his eyes, desperately wishing for a hole to swallow him up or something. Yep. _Chasms_ of humiliation still left.

 

“Why?” Derek said with a slight twitch of his lips. “It’s still tru-... sorry.”

 

Stiles blinked up at him in surprise, catching the tail end of a grimace. “Wait, so you actually do think I’m beautiful?”

 

Derek looked away with a half-shrug. “I’m sure you know already, what you look like.”

 

“No, actually, when drop-dead gorgeous people talk about my looks - or my _anything_ \- they rarely have anything nice to say,” Stiles retorted bitterly. He still remembered Lydia. And, y’know, pretty much every hot person he’d ever crushed on.

 

“Oh,” Derek said, and frowned slightly. Then he blinked and looked back at Stiles with a slight smile. “‘Drop-dead gorgeous’?”

 

Stiles could feel his cheeks flame up again, and shrugged with fake nonchalance. “Well, yeah. Duh.”

 

Derek’s smile widened slightly. “So, if I wanted to ask you out…?”

 

“Dude, all of the yes!” Stiles said, almost stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out. “You can even pet Selina. If you want. Y’know, since you like her so much.”

 

Slowly, Derek removed his right hand from his jacket pocket, and reached out to pet Selina, scratching her neck. She purred, and Derek chuckled softly, and gave Stiles a shy look. “I like her owner even more.”

 

Stiles almost melted into a puddle of goo, and was hard pressed not to say how very open he was for petting. _Heavy_ petting. Maybe more. Y’know, if Derek wanted. “Wanna come in?” he asked instead.

 

Derek nodded, and Stiles beamed at him. Maybe utter humiliation was worth it. Just a little bit.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr shenanigans.](http://spurisani.tumblr.com/) Y'know, if you're into that.
> 
> Also, don't abuse prescription drugs, people, neither your own or other people's. :D Stiles is a very bad role model.


End file.
